Personal Musings category archive
Haven’t Been There Didn’t Do That 0
As a matter of policy, it makes sense, possible fantasies about some Manchurian passenger to the contrary notwithstanding.
As a matter of practicality, it might help explain why some don’t understand the restiveness about the institutionalized indignity of some TSA practices.
Back when the TSA first took over airport security, I was averaging more than one business trip a month, almost all by air. At Philadelphia, TSA was a significant improvement over the Wackenhut rent-a-searchers that they replaced: more polite, more efficient, more professional.
But, as my Freshman roommate once said about some of the senior class ROTC officers in his unit, “Give some persons a flat hat and they think they rule the world.”
Marketing Genius 0
After I got the loaf of garlic bread home (no, not that type of garlic bread–the other type, with honking great chunks of roast garlic mixed right in the dough), I noticed that it had directions:
Preheat oven to 385 degrees. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes.
What a brainstorm!
Another American half-baked marketing idea: Half-baked bread.
(It was actually pretty good. Half a loaf was better than none, and half a loaf is left over.)
How High School Athletics Prepare You for Life, TSA Dept. 0
When our high school track and football coach sensed malingering or horseplay, his most common response was to say, “Stop playing grab-ass and get to work.”
Now, in TSA World, playing grab-ass is work.
Meta: Weekend Break 0
The kitchen floor is cleaner than it has been in a month and I’ve finished some computer tweaks I’ve been considering for some time but which required some Googling research.
My timing was pretty good; yesterday, the power was out for six hours, from 9:00 a. till 3:03 p.
Whatever it was, it was a power company thing, not a storm (it was a beautiful day) nor a rogue vehicle.
One amusing side effect: when the power came back on, it reset the sprinklers, which normally go off at midnight. They went off at three and did it again today. (If I had my druthers, there wouldn’t be any sprinklers–they just encourage the grass to want cut.)
Ignoring the idiocy for a few days was relaxing, but it occurs to me that John Cole was correct. If you don’t pay attention to what’s going on as it happens, you will find yourself susceptible to the spit and spin and toxic spills that pass for the political process these days when it comes to decision time–and politics ain’t just a game, though a lot of folks try to game the polity.
It’s stuff that affect lives, such as Wall Street’s three card monte and the Great and Glorious Patriotic War for a Lie in Iraq.
Lack of Progress Dept. 0
The distressing thing about this story is not that it might have happened–the courts will figure that out–but that it would surprise no one if it did happen.
Court documents quote a text message by the bar’s general manager as telling a shift supervisor to cease a weeknight promotion that brought in African American customers. “We don’t want black people we are a white bar!” the manager wrote in October, the lawsuit alleges.
Stray Question 0
If someone is going to click “Not Sure” in one of those newspaper poll thingees, why would he or she even bother to click?
Long Day 0
Never worked a polling place before.
Six hours at the polling place annoying persons as they arrived to vote.
Actually, I tried to be not annoying.
Most of the voters, I must say were quite polite. Many were pleasant. No one was actively rude, though a few were somewhat curt.
I had several interesting conversations and reached enthusiastic agreement with one conservative voter that broadcast and print coverage of local elections is deplorably deficient, making it difficult to learn about the candidates or the issues; with one Democratic voter that persons who are willing to vote Republican and expect them to be different from 2000-2008 think fantastickal thoughts.
I brought a camp chair with me, but didn’t get to use it for more than half an hour total. I haven’t been on my feet continuously for so long since I worked in a factory.
Afterwards, some of us gathered with Andrew to celebrate, if not a victory, at least the end of the campaign.
The battle is never won. It is always just one in the series.
An election is not an end. It is another beginning.
Afterthought:
I’ll read the returns in the morning. They won’t change from now till then. CSI: New York reruns are great for winding down.
Stray Questions 2
Are cats aware of their tails?
Do cats control their tails or do cats’ tails betray them?
Unknown States 0
I dreamt I was up all night repairing a car.
Now I don’t know whether I’m tired or rested.
Drinking Liberally Virginia Beach 2
One of the things that I have missed since moving to these parts is Drinking Liberally.
When I lived in the Greater Philadelphia Co-Prosperity Sphere, the regular Tuesday meetings of the local DL chapter recharged and invigorated me. The Philly DL bloggers who still have active blogs are linked on the sidebar, over there ————->.
It wasn’t the drinking (I can do that quite well on my own, thank you).
It was the liberally–the fellowship of kindred minds.
Some of the friendships I made there continue across the miles.
When I moved here, there were two DL chapters listed at the mothership–one in Norfolk and one in Virginia Beach–but both of them had faded away by the time I went looking for them.
Now, someone is trying to revive a local chapter.
See you there:
-
When: Thursday, October 28, 6:00 p. m.
Where: Croc’s Bistro & Bar, 620 19th St, Virginia Beach, Virginia (Map)
To quote one of my Philly DL friends,
“Come for the beer, stay for the check”
Mixed Feelings 0
Torn between being sorry the Phillies lost and thinking that an extra-innings finish after an 8 p. m. starts would have been too late for me.
He Called for Help; He Got Fired 0
This kind of stuff really must end. It’s time to let go of the hate. If you are a Christian, another way of putting it is this: It’s time to live by the Gospels, not by Leviticus.
If you think that gays are icky, it just reveals that your mind is icky.
It’s called “Projection.”
Spring Has Spring, Fall Has Fell 1
It looks like it’s finally time to roll out the quilts.
Stray Thought 0
My cat’s not getting fat.
Her legs are just getting too short.
Stray Thought 1
The Cincinnati Reds’ naming their baseball stadium “The Great American Ballpark” is as arrogant as the Dallas Cowboys pretending to be “America’s Team.”
In my part of America, any day on which the Cowboys lose is a good day.
(True fact, as contrasted to untrue facts: It was a sell-out to the Great American Insurance Company, whoever they are. It is now my policy to avoid their policies.)
If there is a great American ballpark, it is Yankee Stadium (and I’m not even a Yankees fan, though I was one in the days of Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford, in the days of ships of wood and men of iron).
Attending a ballgame in Yankee Stadium is a thing unto itself.
Loyalty Oath Stupidity 0
Loyalty oaths were stupid during the Cold War and they are stupid now.
Someone with dastardly intent will quite happily swear a loyalty oath. What’s the little betrayal of a loyalty oath to someone who has already determined to betray a trust?
The only persons who benefit from loyalty oaths are politicians who use them to create fusses and furors.
Follow the link for more details on this particular fuss and furor.
Archangels 1
In Wilmington, Delaware, there is a strong Christian Orthodox presence, reflecting the pattern of immigration (you know about immigration; it’s a word that means, “We’re here; you’re not allowed”). Up the road from my old house was a Ukrainian Orthodox Church.
When they held their annual bazaar, you could get pierogies to die for. (For those of you who have never heard of pierogies, they are sort of eastern European raviolis, usually filled with mashed potatoes or mashed potatoes and onions. You boil them up and, for a true treat, simultaneously fry up some onions and finish by browning the pierogies with the onions. You can sometimes find a pale imitation in the freezer section of your grocery store).
We attended it once, because the Pastor was our neighbor two doors up. The service was two hours of beautiful liturgy, much of it spent standing. The most memorable event was that First Son’s girlfriend of the time fainted from all the standing and incense. She went to the Narthex for a breath and, the next thing we knew, an usher was at our pew whispering, “Your daughter has fainted.” Daughter was standing right there . . . process of elimination and all that.
Anyhoo, in the course of a discussion of the place of archangels as opposed to angels (I took the position that angels were, at best, a metaphor, but that, in Christian tradition, archangels were sort of like the sergeants of angels–sergeants run the Army), I stumbled on the Orthodox Page, which discusses the Orders of Angels.